


The Title of King

by help_me_no



Series: Kings and Monsters and Men [3]
Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Gen, Mostly Gen, Pre-Canon, Recovery, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore, can be read as (very) pre-relationship, past trauma, some philosophical discussions around monarchy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29182338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/help_me_no/pseuds/help_me_no
Summary: How Asterius comes to call Theseus “king”, and the slow beginning of a friendship.
Relationships: Asterius | The Minotaur & Theseus (Hades Video Game), Asterius | The Minotaur/Theseus (Hades Video Game)
Series: Kings and Monsters and Men [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2125851
Comments: 7
Kudos: 116





	The Title of King

**Author's Note:**

> You could probably read this on its own, but it builds super heavily on the previous works in this series so I'd recommend catching up on those first. We get a pretty serious version of Theseus here that makes sense in the context of this series, but maybe less so when only looking at the game.

The first time Asterius calls Theseus “my king,” he admittedly says it with something that’s almost annoyance and sarcasm. He is not bitter that Theseus slayed him—he never was—but he doesn’t know what to do with this new relationship where he follows Theseus around Elysium like a newborn fawn. He’s not sure why Theseus has brought him to Elysium at all. He is thankful, he thinks, but it puts him on edge. (And that too, is strange. He’s not sure what to do with feelings more complex than hunger and defensive fear.)

And so, one day, they walk through Elysium and Theseus is boasting about his combat skill and trying his hand in the arena. He idly comments that perhaps Asterius should fight in it as well.

Asterius prickles at the thought of more fighting, of being a spectacle, of being a tool to be flaunted by a king as a symbol of military might. He answers reflexively, his voice flat and level despite the utter thoughtfulness of the words themselves:

“As you wish, my king.”

The thing is. _The thing is._

Asterius has seen many of the shades declare their adoration for King Theseus, singing his praises, pledging devotion and subservience. And always Theseus puffs up his chest and beams widely and thanks them in a booming voice and apparently drinks up the praise. He assumes Theseus will respond to the title in much the same way here, and continue barreling through his line of conversation.

Instead Theseus freezes, and his face goes oddly flat.

And then, his voice picks up his usual bright confident tone and aggressive volume, as he turns away from Asterius.

“My apologies! That was insensitive of me to ask! I enjoy the rush of battle but that is not so for all!”

He doesn’t acknowledge the title at all as he continues to speak, rambling off into discussions of some of the other heroes that dwell in Elysium and fight in the arena. He faces away from Asterius, and continues walking, and Asterius dutifully follows behind.

Theseus’s odd reaction occupies his thoughts as they continue on their stroll. Asterius has not yet mastered reading expressions, but the look on Theseus’s face reminds him of the labyrinth. Not their own encounter and fight together, but earlier.

The warriors of Crete had eventually learned that they could not defeat the minotaur, that there was no glory to be won, and to leave the minotaur only Athenian sacrifices to consume. But before that, they had come, and Asterius had killed them all. The look that struck their faces at the time of death is not unlike the one Theseus wore at the title of “king.”

Later, as they return to their chambers in Elysium to sleep, Asterius finds himself still pondering the question. Asterius tells himself this is a good exercise in understanding emotions. He carefully picks through the shared expression on Theseus’s face and the faces of warriors he’d slain. Some shock, perhaps, and pain, and no small dose of fear. But that’s not it either, Asterius realizes. In that, Theseus’s expression differed. Because if there is one expression Asterius is confident he can read on a human face, it is terror.

He even knew what a hint of fear looked like on Theseus’s face. When they faced each other in the labyrinth, Theseus’s face had carried it, though far less than the other warriors and sacrifices. And this new, odd blank look on Theseus’s face did not have it.

Or perhaps... Asterius has not yet grasped the difference between terror and fear, and maybe, he thinks, this is it? In the labyrinth, all had faced him with terror. When he called Theseus king, here in Elysium, his face showed fear. Not of Asterius but... of something.

Or perhaps Asterius misunderstands entirely, and he snorts in frustration and rolls over.

Doing so puts his face towards the almost fully open wall of his room. It faces out into a huge meadowy courtyard space, and it fills his room with soft light and open air. And this reminds him of their first ‘night’ in Elysium, when he and Theseus had made their way to this chamber Elysium had created for them. They had walked through a spacious living area, scaled such that all of it accommodated Asterius’s bulk, and then Theseus had proclaimed they would investigate the bedrooms. They’d entered this room first, Theseus had looked around, and immediately declared it was Asterius’s.

“Are you sure it is not for you?” Asterius had asked.

And Theseus had put his fists on his hips and stared out the wall at the open space and the light and had firmly decided that no, he was sure, even without seeing the other room.

Again, Asterius knows not what to do with this. He tells himself Theseus had known because of the size of the bed, or because they hadn’t yet known Elysium never darkened, or that maybe Theseus also sleeps better in the light. But Theseus had not yet looked at the bed, and when he did, he declared it was still too small with a frown. The bed Asterius lays in now is even larger than it was initially, and Theseus’s own bed is huge enough it could conceivably contain the minotaur. And Theseus’s room is swathed in heavy curtains, and entirely unlike this space. Elysium provides what its residents desire, and Theseus had only needed to look upon this space to immediately know it was for Asterius.

It had taken some time for Asterius to grow used to it. The first night in Elysium, he had lain upon this massive bed, softer than anything he had ever felt, and stared out at a space so open and light it had made his head spin. He had considered pulling curtains over the open wall and laying himself upon the floor, if only so he could sleep, but they are dead now. Sleep is not a necessity, so he had simply laid in that soft bed for hours and stared at the light, as he does now.

How had Elysium known this was what he wanted before he knew it himself, when the light and the space had still scared him? How had Theseus?

And so Asterius begins an experiment. He watches more closely when others call Theseus king. And he notices, despite all the bravado and effusive thanks, that Theseus carries a shadow of that same flatness Asterius had only recently discovered. He wears it less in his face, but rather in his shoulders or his arms or his fists. Asterius uses the title when he addresses Theseus now, and catalogs the way Theseus reacts even more strongly to Asterius than to others. He cannot tell if it upsets Theseus more coming from him, or if it simply catches him more off guard.

He never means the hurt, but Asterius still doesn’t know what to do with the emotions Theseus displays. He keeps using the title, at first in hopes he will eventually discover _why_ it bothers Theseus. (He has come to know Theseus well enough to be sure Theseus would deny this discomfort, if confronted). But after a while it simply becomes habit for Asterius. The more time they spend together, the more natural it feels. Theseus continues to offer Asterius kindness and support and respect and space, and Asterius's feelings toward Theseus begin to feel less like debt and confusion, and more like loyalty. 

Of course Asterius still idly notices Theseus’s reactions to the title, but unhappiness features less and less prominently in his reactions. Similarly, monitoring those reactions becomes less and less key to Asterius’s motivations. At some point he calls Theseus his king because it feels like the best way to describe how he feels.

* * *

The two frequently walk through Elysium together, and tucked between the open meadows and the columned buildings and the statue gardens are thriving markets, draped in silks and rich with the scents of spices and fruit and wine.

“Why would any still engage in barter and trade when this place provides all they need?” Asterius had asked once.

Theseus had looked thoughtful, but had finally said that markets served a social function, perhaps even more than they do as commerce. It gave shades things to do, and a place to gather, and a space to engage in life after death. Asterius isn’t sure he understands, but he likes it. He likes that the markets are dense and mazelike, but unlike the labyrinth they are full of life and light and noise, and they open up into large squares and open spaces, and always above them is vast open air. Sometimes a few shades in the markets will stare at him with fear and distrust, but he is used to that, and the bustle keeps most too preoccupied to care about the beast that walks among them.

On this occasion, the shade of a young woman stares at them from across a square, bewildered. Her gaze keeps darting back and forth between them as Theseus gesticulates broadly, happily recounting a story to Asterius. Theseus does not seem to notice her, and Asterius is used to such interactions, so he dismisses it.

But then she speaks up, loud and incredulous, practically shouting across a crowd.

“My king??”

Theseus whips around in recognition at the sound of her voice, and clear delight pools across his face at the sight of her. He bounds across the square, sweeping her into a hug. Asterius misses the beginning of the conversation, as Theseus expresses delight at seeing the shade again, and inquires to how she is, and so on and so forth. She simply stares over his shoulder at Asterius.

“Is that... the minotaur?” She finally asks, voice low. Asterius still hears. He can’t see the expression on Theseus’s face, and is glad for it.

“It is.” Theseus’s voice sounds oddly level.

In contrast, hers grows louder and sharper, tinged with hints of hysteria.

“He was going to _eat_ us! He _would have_ if you had not killed him!”

Her voice is drawing the attention of the crowd, and Asterius shifts restlessly at the feeling of so many anxious and hateful gazes. He wants to leave, but he does not wish to leave Theseus behind.

Before Asterius can make any decisions, Theseus grasps her hands, squares his shoulders, and then speaks, loud and booming. To the bystanders it’s surely indistinguishable from Theseus’s usual volume and grandeur. But Asterius has grown to know better, and he recognizes the clear signs that Theseus is projecting, creating a spectacle of himself, ensuring the entire market hears and hangs on his words.

“The minotaur only ate sacrifices from Athens because that is what King Minos fed him! The death of our people rests on the king of Crete, who used the minotaur as an excuse to demand the slaughter of his enemies! Asterius played no part in the choice of sacrifices. That blame lies on not only King Minos, but my father as well, for choosing people to send across the sea, and for being so callous as to allow continued sacrifices rather than put an end to it.”

Vaguely Asterius feels things clicking into place, things that have long puzzled him about Theseus.

The shade protests faintly, “—but, my king!”

Even from a distance, through a crowd, with his back turned, Asterius can see a twitch in Theseus’s shoulders, a faint tension.

“If you cannot believe that, then,” Theseus continues, “-can I at least ask you to trust my word? That I truly mean it and believe it when I say there is no danger or cruelty or evil within Asterius, within the minotaur, and that I would trust him with my life?”

The shade’s mouth flaps in shock, and the crowd is shifting restlessly. But there must be something on Theseus’s face, that Asterius still cannot see, or simply in the sincerity of his voice. The crowd begins to shoot Asterius far more thoughtful, considering glances, and the shade finally nods.

“Of course, my king,” she says, tearfully gripping Theseus’s hands. “Of course I trust you. With my life and with my wellbeing and with my happiness. You saved me, you saved all of us, and then our livelihoods and our families and our great city flourished under your rule. Of course, my king.”

It takes a long while for Theseus to finally part from her, and then he is waylaid by several other shades. Some, Asterius thinks, must’ve been residents of Athens during Theseus’s rule, but some seem to only know him by reputation or through family and friends. Either way it’s disarming how Theseus carefully takes the time to hear them all out. He stands tall and speaks loudly and projects the air that he listens because he relishes their praise. Yet it is also somehow obvious that he cares about what they say and they think, and that he would uproot both Hades and Olympus to ensure they are happy.

And Asterius feels like there is a hook caught through his chest when he realizes he may be the only one who sees Theseus’s discomfort at the title of king. Each time someone uses it, it is like a tiny weight is added to Theseus’s shoulders. And he beams and pretends he is proud of it.

Finally Theseus manages to disentangle himself from the throng of shades, and makes his way back to Asterius.

“My apologies, my friend! I did not mean to keep you such! I hope you know that you are always welcome to move on without me! And...” There’s just the slightest pause. “I understand that traveling this place alone may not always be pleasant, as the shades of Elysium have not fully accepted you yet, but I know that will change! And I will do all I can to hasten the day where everyone sees you as I do!”

Asterius stares down at him. Finally, slowly, he asks, “Are we?”

Theseus makes a confused inquiring sound in his throat and Asterius continues.

“You call me ‘friend’. Are we?”

“Oh.”

And Theseus looks incredibly small in that moment. Asterius is used to looking down at the shades of Elysium, has accepted that he dwarfs them all, but Theseus has a presence that always makes him feel comparatively large. But here his head is low, and he gnaws at his lip, and Asterius is suddenly aware that, though Theseus is a fairly broad man, he is not really much taller than most of the shades that mill around them.

Theseus speaks again: “I... should like to think we are. I consider you as such, but I also understand that it must be hard for you to consider me a friend after all I have done, and all that I am. If... you are uncomfortable with such, I can stop. Friendship is not something that can exist in one direction, and I will not force you.”

In that moment, Asterius makes a decision. He thinks of the respect he was shown when they first met in the labyrinth. He thinks of Theseus offering him fruit, and of Theseus knowing that a room of light and space was built for Asterius, and then demanding Elysium provide Asterius even more. He thinks of Theseus walking through Elysium with him and explaining what he does not know, and of Theseus feeling grief that Elysium does not fully welcome Asterius. And he thinks about Theseus apologizing for not killing Minos, and Theseus insisting Minos and Aegeus were the ones to blame for the people Asterius consumed, and Theseus’s absolute confidence that there is good and kindness within Asterius, the minotaur who was locked in a labyrinth because he was a monster.

All of this crowds Asterius’s mind and he looks at Theseus, who would see him as a friend but will not demand it, and he makes his decision.

“I should like that, my king.”

At Theseus’s minute flinch, Asterius continues.

“I would be honored to call you a friend, just as I am honored to call you my king.”

Theseus’s gaze jerks up, and he stares at Asterius.

“I don’t see why you would be,” Theseus says quietly, unhappy confusion visible in his face, if only to Asterius.

“I believe you are a good king, Theseus.”

“I am not sure there is such a thing,” Theseus says, even quieter than before.

Asterius hums, puts a hand on Theseus’s shoulder, and resumes their walk through the market. Theseus obliges, and Asterius watches the way Theseus relaxes. Asterius suspects it is because Theseus thinks walking side by side has averted Asterius’s gaze and attention. Asterius also suspects Theseus has not fully realized that, with the head of a cow, Asterius’s range of vision allows him to watch just as well as when they face each other directly.

“Perhaps not,” Asterius says, “but I think you may be as good as a king can be. I cannot speak to your life before, as I have not witnessed it, but I think, here and now, you are a good man.”

“Perhaps you think that because I am not truly a king here!” Theseus says. His voice is loud and bright and light as if the conversation is of little consequence, but his face is serious and withdrawn.

Asterius ponders a little. He can see Theseus turn his head to watch him, but he continues to face forward, and allows Theseus to believe his observation is in secret.

“I suppose the issue is in the definition of a king,” Asterius finally answers.

“You are no longer a king in that you no longer rule. And that power is what made a monster of Minos. Your people seem to believe you used that power for good, and you seem afraid that you are like Minos and your father, but that is irrelevant now.”

Theseus seems flabbergasted at that final statement, and Asterius is glad the shock of it was enough to bypass a reaction to the mention of Minos and Aegeus.

Here, Asterius finally turns to face Theseus. It only slightly improves his vision, but more importantly, he wants Theseus to know Asterius is meeting his gaze.

“You no longer rule, so you no longer need to fear that responsibility as a king. But a king is not just in his power, I think. You are still a king in the way that you inspire loyalty. You are still a king in the way you care for people you can protect. And so, yes, I am honored to call you my king, and my friend.”

Theseus looks flayed open, startled and bewildered and vulnerable and there’s something creeping at the edge of his expression that Asterius thinks he can now recognize as a tentative, hopeful joy.

“I do not know if I have ever heard you speak so long all at once, dearest Asterius!” Theseus proclaims. He’s deflecting, but for now, Asterius thinks that’s alright.

Asterius turns away again, letting himself watch Theseus while offering Theseus the illusion of privacy. Theseus’s face goes soft, and he ducks his head.

“Thank you, my friend,” Theseus says quietly. Asterius suspects he is not meant to hear over the bustle of the market, and that Theseus has equally forgotten the quality of Asterius’s hearing. That’s alright too. Asterius will let him have it, and in the meantime, he carefully tucks Theseus’s words deep into his chest.

**Author's Note:**

> Cows have 300 degree vision (though only 20-ish degrees of binocular vision and therefore depth perception) and very good hearing! And yes, Asterius exploits that!
> 
> Anyways, this whole fic is me expanding on ideas I had in the first work of this series regarding power and monarchy and exploitation (and a Theseus who is actually aware of that and carries that around with him). “My king” as an endearment is top-tier shit, but also, fuck systems of monarchy. I always had difficult resolving the way traditional myth insists Theseus was a good king when he ruled Athens, despite his frequent poor decisions and shithead behavior. So this was an exercise in how to resolve ideas of good kings versus good people versus a way of rethinking the idea of a 'king' outside of authoritarian power.
> 
> There's at least one more work to come in this series, to work around the fact that these two still have some pretty big communication gaps in their relationship. (Shoutout to commenters ahunmaster and lemonmangosorbet for pointing out issues of perceived pity, and a lack of transparency from Theseus on his motivations for bringing Asterius to Elysium.) I debated trying to edit it all back into this fic, but it felt like it did a disservice both to those ideas, and the original pacing/flow/themes I wrote for this work, so y'all get another oneshot!


End file.
